


I Miss You. -James

by GalaxyAce



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Coma, Dragster crash, Emotional James, Happy Ending (I Promise), Hospital, James gets depressed, M/M, Recovering Richard, Talks about Richard's crash, letter writing fic, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9365588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAce/pseuds/GalaxyAce
Summary: When Richard gets into a high-speed, nearly fatal crash that results in him being stuck in a coma, James finds that he is the most affected by the shocking news. James's true feelings toward Richard are revealed in a collection of writings; things James had always wished to say to Richard, but never did. He makes a silent promise to himself that if Richard recovers, James will gift the letters to him, the things James wrote when Richard couldn't hear, couldn't see.The series of letters and actions that show how James's friendship and admiration for Richard evolved into something more than platonic love, following a life-changing event that reminded James that life is fleeting, and there truly is one chance for everything.





	1. 20 September 2006

20 September 2006.

James can’t believe it. His heart sinks when he receives the phone call. It takes him a few minutes to process what he’s hearing.

The words pound and echo in his head.

_Richard. In hospital. High-speed crash. Coma. Slim chance of full recovery._

He blinks back tears and hangs up the phone. His tears quickly become too heavy and are rolling down his cheeks.

He wipes the tears away and runs his fingers through his long hair.

Pushing back angry thoughts, he sits down at his desk, blindly reaching for a crumpled piece of paper and a pen. More tears running down his cheeks, he begins to write. Tears falling down onto the paper.

 

_Richard,_

_I can’t believe what I’ve just heard. Please tell me I’m dreaming. Please tell me it’s a joke and you’re going to walk into the studio tomorrow. Please._

_James._

He gets up and walks to his bed, clutching a pillow, imagining it’s Richard. He hugs it as tightly as he can. He lets it all out, sobbing into the pillow until the fabric is thoroughly soaked and his eyes are too exhausted to keep producing tears. He reluctantly falls asleep, not wanting to wake up the next day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. 27 September 2006

27 September 2006

A week since James got the phone call. A week since James had been happy. A week since James’ life had been turned upside-down. He’s not talked to anyone since.

He finds that he’s losing interest in things he enjoyed doing. Simple things like cooking, having a glass of wine, reading a book.

He’s numb.

He wouldn’t have admitted it then, but he will admit it now: Richard was his whole world. Richard was the light in his life. Richard was the only thing that made him happy.

James is angry with himself for not telling Richard how much he means. He is afraid he will never get the chance to say it.

He walks to his kitchen and opens a cabinet full of alcohol. Opening a bottle, he downs as much as he can before the alcohol burns his throat.

A few quick minutes pass before his eyesight is getting foggy, blurry. He stumbles toward an open drawer and rummages through it, pulling a wrinkled piece of paper out.

Tears obscuring his vision even more, he manages to find a pen and presses it against the paper.

 

_Richard,_

_I’ve gotten pissed for the first time in years because of you. You have no idea how much this hurts. Nothing is the same without you. Your eyes, your laugh. Your smile._

_You._

_I miss you._

_When are you coming back? I hope it’s soon._

_James._

He grabs the wet, ink-smudged paper and staggers up the stairs to his room. He throws the paper on his desk, on top of the paper he wrote on last week. And then it’s just a repeat of the day after he got the news.

He collapses onto the bed, sobbing and holding on to a pillow. He calls out Richard’s name. Over and over.

There is no response besides James’ wails.

 


	3. 02 October 2006

02 October 2006

 

_Richard,_

_A life without you is like a life without air. How I’d give anything to see you again. I even get excited when I see a 911 drive by._

_But then I remember._

_And my world goes dark again._

_I think I’ve cried more in the past few weeks than I’ve cried in my 4 decades of life._

_Is it wrong for me to not want to keep on living without you?_

_I miss you._

_James._

His days are filled with mourning.

He gets no positive updates on Richard’s condition. Everything he does requires twice as much energy.

Hours go by slowly, and days go by even slower.

He’s never felt so low in his life.

He’s barely eating, barely showering. He’s rejecting any form of communication, even from Jeremy. He doesn’t answer the door when someone knocks. He spends his time in bed, sleeping or thinking. Thinking about things that could have been different. Thinking about things he could have said. Thinking about things he could have done.

 _“If only they’d have stopped after the fifth or sixth time”_ He thinks.

 He continues thinking. Thinking about how a text or phone call from Richard would brighten his whole day. He’s still hoping that whenever his phone rings, it’s Richard. Each time he checks, reality slaps him across the face. It’s not. It’s never Richard.

Why can’t he get it through his head? Why is he so in love with an angry, short bloke from Birmingham?

The rest of the day passes by agonizingly slowly.

He goes to sit at his desk. He reaches for the paper he wrote in earlier and makes a continuation.

 

_PS._

_I think I’m going to visit you in hospital tomorrow. I can’t bear not seeing you._

_I miss you. A lot._

_James._


	4. 03 October 2006

03 October 2006

James wakes up early. As much as he’d like to look clean and normal, he’s not got the energy. He showers quickly.

He looks at himself in the mirror. His hair is getting greyer and thinner. His facial hair is starting to get long.

He’s letting himself go. He realises he looks disheveled. Older. And it’s all because of Richard.

Shaking the thought from his head, he changes into a pair of blue jeans and a light blue shirt. He pulls on one of his favourite jumpers. The weather is a bit crisp this morning.

The jumper is faded and worn and wrinkled. And grey. Just like James.

He walks down the stairs and grabs his car keys. He decides to take his Ferrari today.

When he gets to hospital, he is recognized by many.

Albeit it takes a minute or so. James’ unkempt appearance comes as a shock to those people who see him. Especially Jeremy. Jeremy wants to talk.

James doesn’t. He looks up at Jeremy with an expression that doesn’t need words. An expression that somehow manages to convey… Devastation. Love. Sorrow. Pain.

Jeremy nods his head and touches James’ shoulder. A gesture of consolation. James forces a small smile and nods his head.

They part ways.

James searches for Richard’s room. He talks to nurses and doctors who point him in the right direction.

He thanks them.

He finds Richard’s room.

He can’t go in.

He stands outside the door, thinking about what he’s about to see.

He collects his thoughts and enters.

He freezes.

There’s Richard. On a hospital bed. Connected to machines and IV drips.

James’ mouth goes dry. His eyes fill with tears. His heart sinks even more. His knees feel weak.

Richard’s face is bruised. Purple and blue. Richard’s head is covered with a bandage and he’s hooked up to a machine that supposedly measures brain waves. It beeps every couple of seconds.

James works up the courage to stand at Richard’s bedside. He reaches out and runs his fingers lightly over Richard’s cheek.

Staring in disbelief at Richard’s broken face, his heart shatters.

He can’t hold it in anymore. He cries like he’s never cried before. Tears rolling down his cheeks. His eyes are red and swollen.

He reaches for Richard’s hands and grasps them tightly, but carefully.

He closes his eyes and rests his head on Richard’s barely-moving chest.

James whispers to Richard that he misses him. James whispers for Richard to come back. James whispers that he loves Richard.

James whispers _“please”._

He tries to get in the bed with Richard.

He does.

And after a while, everything goes black.

He’s being woken up by a nurse a few hours later, eyes still puffy from crying.

He leaves hospital and goes home.

He goes up to his room and sits at his desk with a piece of paper and pen in front of him.

 

_Richard,_

_I saw you today. You made my heart stop. Like usual._

_I talked to you today. You didn’t answer. Like usual._

_I touched you today. You made me nervous. Like usual._

_I cried for you today. You made my heart break. Like usual._

_Today, I realised I am a broken man. Because of you._

_There are so many things I should have told you. I never did. Now, I don’t know if I will ever be able to._

_You were the best thing to have ever come into my life. I should have told you that._

_I miss you._

_James._

 

 

 

 

_PS._

_I told you I loved you._

_I wasn't lying._

 

 

 

 

 


	5. 08 October 2006

08 October 2006.

 

James wakes up in the middle of night. It’s raining. He decides to go outside for a bit.

He smokes a cigarette for the first time in a while. He sits under his back porch, watching the rain fall.

He thinks about how much more enjoyable it would be if someone were sitting next to him. And for a split second, he imagines Richard sitting on the chair to his left, grasping his hand.

He pushes the thought away. He takes a long drag from his cigarette.

He continues watching the rain fall. Suddenly it feels as if there is rain falling from his eyes.

There is. James is crying once again.

After a few minutes, he gets up and presses his still-lit cigarette against his forearm.

He shuts his eyes and winces at the burning sensation.

It doesn’t hurt as bad as he thought. Or maybe he just can’t feel anymore.

He goes back inside, back to bed. He just lies there.

After an unsuccessful half hour of trying to fall asleep, he gets up once more. He heads to his desk.

Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, he writes.

 

_Richard,_

_I don’t want to sleep without you next to me. You’re always on my mind. Why did this have to happen?_

_There’s no reason for me to go on without you. This is too painful._

_I hate this._

_I hate myself._

_I hate you for not noticing the bloody tyre about to pop off._

_I hate you for attempting to do such a stupid, unnecessary stunt._

_But most of all, I miss you._

_Come back._

_Please._

 

_James._

Tears fall on the paper and on the desk.

He gets up and sits on the edge of his bed, picking up his mobile.

Flipping through all the missed calls and messages, he rings Richard’s mobile.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Four rings.

Five rings.

No answer.

Voicemail comes up and he hears Richard’s voice.

“’Ello, you’ve reached Richard Hammond. I’m probably busy right now so try ringing again later. Unless you’re Jeremy Clarkson. Then you can sod off!”

James hears Richard laughing for a few seconds at the end of the voicemail message.

The beep to record and leave a message is heard and James shuts his phone off.

More tears are falling from his eyes and he curls up in his bed, clutching a pillow to his chest and sobbing.

Richard’s name escapes James’s lips more than a few times. James pleads for Richard to come back once more. He needs Richard. Desperately.


	6. 10 October 2006

10 October 2006

James wakes up round 3 in the afternoon. He sleeps through most of the day now. And most of the night. He only wakes up to eat. He is running out of food, and since he doesn’t want to go out, he relies on deliveries. After he gets his food, he either goes back to bed, or writes Richard a letter. Then goes back to bed.

James is stuck in a painful, destructive cycle. He can’t get out of it. He doesn’t even try.

James is thoroughly depressed.

Depressed and heartbroken.

Depressed and heartbroken and paralysed.

James sits at his desk and reaches for a red biro.

He presses it against the clean sheet of paper in front of him.

 

_Richard,_

_I had McDonald’s today. Reminded me of the time we were driving the Porsche Cayenne together and we stopped there to get food. I still remember how you ate your burger. And I still remember how picked up your chips from the bag and they slid down your chest, safely into your arms._

_That’s where I wish I were right now. In your arms. Wrapped in them, with you telling me that it’s all going to be all right. Whispering, and assuring me that you’re here, that you’ll always be here, and you won’t leave me. Not again. Not ever._

_Look at me. I sound so pathetic. Richard, this is too painful. It’s gotten to the point where some days I just think about ending it all. I go to sleep and I genuinely don’t care if I wake up or not._

_I don’t want to be here if I’m without you. I mean it, Richard._

_I wish you’d come back already._

_I miss you._

_I need you._

_I love you._

_James._


	7. 16 October 2006 (part 1)

16 October 2006 (part 1)

 

_Richard,_

_I’ve had it._

_I need you, I need to be with you. I don’t want to be alone like this anymore._

_This truly is agony._

_I’m barely hanging on._

_I need you to come back to me more than anything. My everyday thoughts consist primarily of you, well, more than they used to._

_I desperately need to see your smile._

_It’s the only thing that makes my life worthwhile._

_I desperately need to hear your laugh._

_It truly makes me believe that you’re my other half._

_I desperately need to feel your touch._

_It would comfort me very much._

_I desperately need you here._

_I’m all alone in this big, blue sphere._

_You’ve genuinely made me believe in love._

_You’re the only other person I think of._

_Dear god above,_

_Don’t take away my true love._

_James._

James finds a song to listen to whenever he thinks of Richard. And he finds himself listening to that song for hours on end.

_“And I’m gonna keep on lovin’ you…”_

James nods his head.

_“’Cause it’s the only thing I wanna do…”_

James finds himself singing along quietly.

_“I don’t want to sleep, I just wanna keep on lovin’ you…”_

There are tears welling up in James’s eyes.

_“And I meant… every word I said…”_

A tear escaped.

_“When I said that I love you I meant that I love you forever…”_

After that first tear broke free, the rest followed, bursting forth like water from a dam.

He cries out of sadness at first. He quickly changes emotions, getting up from the couch abruptly and kicking the coffee table in front of him with such force, it ricochets against the wall and nearly comes back to its initial position: in front of James. He looks down at the floor. The glass vase that was on the table is now in tiny pieces, scattered around the room. James sits back down, and pulls handfuls of his own hair. Hard. So hard he winces.

He screams. He yells that he can’t take this anymore. He stomps out of his house, grabbing a set of keys without looking.

Even without looking, he knew by the feel which car these keys were for. His Ferrari 458 Speciale.

He decides there is no turning back now. He gets in and starts the car, backs out quickly and sends the car into a blinding sprint forwards.

He drives recklessly through traffic and roundabouts, ignoring red lights completely. It surprises him. Why he hasn’t been hit yet.

James drives further into the countryside, albeit it takes a while. But when you’re speeding and angry, the speedometre isn’t even being given the time of day. The time to get away from civilisation is nearly halved.

He drives on a dirt road. At a high speed. Angry thoughts filling his head. Blinking back tears, his vision is impaired.

Within seconds...

He crashes.


	8. 16 October 2006 (Part 2)

16 October 2006 (part 2)

 

The bonnet crumples. The airbags deploy. James’s head hits the steering wheel, then the dash so violently, his eyes flutter open and shut and his mind goes black. His head lolls, his body goes limp and his mouth opens ever so slightly that he manages to utter out Richard’s name. It’s barely audible. Then his eyes close, a small tear leaks out the side of his left eye. His head rests on the dash, blood drips down from his forehead, to his cheek, then finally to a small puddle that collects in the initial dent James’s head made in the dash.

The gigantic tree he hit is not damaged in the slightest.

James lies there for hours. Unconscious. Barely breathing.

At half 4, a family walks down the same path. They see the crashed car. They see someone in it. Reaching for a mobile phone, 999 is being called. Medical help is close by. Sirens are heard and within minutes, an unconscious, barely-alive James is being taken to hospital. The same hospital Richard is in.

James is being taken to the emergency/trauma section of hospital. His bed is being set up and the nurses are frantically setting up machines, gathering necessary supplies, and assisting doctors with carrying James onto the fresh hospital bed. Doctors are tending to James’s head wounds, assessing the damage, while the nurses are fitting James with sticky heart rate monitors on his chest, a needle in his arm for an IV drip, and pressing an oxygen mask to the lower half of his face.

The doctors declare that James has likely been in this state for at least 4 hours.

They’re right.

They also say that a full recovery wouldn’t have been possible if he was brought in later. They immediately get to work, wheeling him through various corridors into an operating room.

A few hours later, they emerge. A slightly anaesthetised James in the bed, figuring out how to blink his eyes for the second time in his life.

He’s being wheeled into a recovery room. He gets the strength to speak.

He explains that he needs to be in Richard Hammond’s room in the least amount of sensible words possible. The nurses look at him with uncertainty. He explains that he is James May, and that Richard is his everything. This time he is more understandable. The nurses agree to take him to Richard’s room.

Without time to prepare for the entry to Richard’s room once more, James is slapped in the face by harsh reality for the second time today. His swollen face contorts into an indescribable expression: a mix of sadness, pain, and longing.

The nurses begin to wheel James to the opposite side of the room. Before they even get halfway, James channels his remaining amount of strength to his voice, and orders the nurses to put him as close to Richard as possible. He doesn’t say it rudely, it’s more of a pleading way, like he desperately needs it. The nurses understand that he doesn’t mean it in an impolite way, and promptly comply with the injured man’s wish. He thanks them.

They leave.

He turns his head slowly to look at Richard, who is to James’s right.

Richard’s face looks slightly less bruised. But his overall condition seemingly remains unchanged.

James curses quietly to himself. Words like “daft sod”, “stupid”, “ridiculous”, and “I miss you” escape his lips.

Did he do this to be with Richard? Or did he do this to die? James realises. It’s a mixture of both.

His eyelids feel heavy and he acknowledges that he’s beginning to nod off.

He closes his eyes and whispers to Richard that he loves him.

Then James repeats the song in his head.

 

_“And I’m gonna keep on lovin’ you…_

_‘Cause it’s the only thing I wanna do…_

_I don’t wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on lovin’ you…”_

 

And finally drifts off to sleep.

 


	9. 21 October 2006

21 October 2006

 

After a few days under intense care, James is feeling much better. Physically.

He is still hurting emotionally. Possibly even more than he was before.

He regains most of his strength in those few short days.

Enough strength to write Richard another letter, while lying right next to him.

 

_Richard,_

_I’m lying next to you in hospital right now._

_I’ve done something stupid because I’m too pathetic to live without you._

_But I’m still here and you’re still not._

_Why do you have to mean so much to me?_

_Why did you have to be so perfect to the point where I fell in love with you?_

_Worst of all, why does it have to be like this now?_

_Sometimes, I wish I’d never have met you. That way, I wouldn’t be going through this pain. This is singlehandedly the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life. And you’re the cause of it._

_When are you coming back? I’ve been waiting for ages. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait for._

_Please, I hope it’s soon._

_I love you._

_But I hate you._

_But most of all, I miss you._

_James._

James looks over at Richard all the time. He reaches out to stroke an arm, or to run his fingers over Richard’s face.

He can’t do this for long. It only takes a few seconds before tears are forming in James’s eyes.

And it takes less than a minute before the tears get too heavy, and drip down James’s cheeks.

 


	10. 24 October 2006

24 October 2006

 

_Richard,_

_I’m leaving hospital today._

_You’re not._

_I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to be without you anymore._

_I wish I could say everything I’d ever wanted to say._

_I guess I’ll just have to wait._

_I hope to see you soon._

_I miss you._

_James._

 

James changes out of the hospital gown and into some spare clothes. Before leaving the hospital room, he stands over Richard’s bed and leans over, pressing a gentle kiss to Richard’s forehead.

James takes Richard’s hands into his own and leans down again, this time pressing a tender kiss on Richard’s lips.

James whispers into Richard’s ear that he loves him.

No response.

Feeling disheartened by the lack of response, James shuts his eyes and tells himself it’s going to be okay.

Walking out of the room, he realises it’s not going to be okay.

At all.


	11. 25 October 2006

25 October 2006

 

James settles back into his house, thoughts of lingering emptiness ingrained in his mind.

He tries to forget the past week and a half or so.

Unsuccessfully.

He exchanges words with Jeremy over a phone call.

Words that describe the stricken expression on James’s face the day they saw each other at hospital.

Words that describe the pain James is going through.

Words that describe the feelings James harbours for Richard.

And then it’s just Jeremy listening to the sound of James crying over the phone.

Jeremy understands.

He doesn’t take the piss out of James.

He knows how serious this is.

 

Their phone call ends, eventually.

James goes to get a piece of paper and a biro.

He starts writing.

 

_Richard,_

_I talked to Jeremy over the phone today._

_I told him everything._

_I think I feel a tad bit better._

_But I still miss you._

_You’ve been a part of my life for so long, it’s strange not to have you around anymore._

_It’s like someone scooped out the most vital part of me._

_In a way, that’s what your accident did. I’m broken beyond repair._

_But most of all, I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’ll take my life and then you’ll wake up. I’m staying alive for you, Richard._

 

_If you look at it from my perspective,_

_You will notice that I am quite defective_

_Being without you has taken its toll_

_I’m not sure if I want to keep living at all._

_Some nights are bad, but most are worse_

_You here would make this a perfect clockwork universe_

_You’re still lying in that damned bed,_

_Making horrible thoughts go through my head_

_The pain of you not being here,_

_Makes me want to disappear_

_Forever._

_However,_

_For some strange reason, I’ve still got hope_

_Even though I’ve become a bit of a misanthrope_

_Everything in my life seemed to go wrong,_

_At least, before you came along._

_I’m still clinging to a thread of optimism_

_Even though my brain is going through a cataclysm,_

_Because now I realise,_

_My life is going anti-clockwise_

_And it won’t get sorted out,_

_Unless I blackout,_

_Or you come back about._

_I miss you._

_James._


	12. 01 November

01 November 2006

James’s depression is in full swing right about now.

He just can’t get Richard off his mind, more so than usual.

He starts to imagine elaborate scenarios with Richard by his side, some even venture into the extremes, with James imagining them living together, possibly married with a kid.

Deep in his mind, James hopes his wishes will come true.

James finds himself hoping and wishing too much these days. He’s afraid it’ll all come crashing down soon.

He’ll receive a phone call from hospital announcing Richard’s passing, or worse, James will tell Richard how he feels, and Richard will not feel the same.

Heartbreak, for James, is one of the most extreme pains there is. Although he’s never properly experienced it, this pre-heartbreak stage he’s been in for the past few months is already unbearable enough.

And James doesn’t want the pain to get worse.

His moods change so quickly, and now, after thinking a bit, he is feeling quite emotional.

He decides whether or not to add another letter to the ever-growing pile.

He does.

James starts writing on a piece of notepad paper.

 

_Richard,_

_Have you ever thought what could have happened between us if I just had the plums to admit that I love you more than a friend? I’ve found myself imagining the endless possibilities. A personal favourite of mine has been a recurring one. We’d buy a great house far away from others, have our arsenal of cars in a huge underground garage, possibly be engaged or married already, and… I’d quite like to raise a child with you. You know, now blokes can have babies… or something?... Kind of. I think you just have to mix the sperm together and find a surrogate? I’m not sure. I might have to do some more research, if you agree, of course._

_Anyway, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. When you get out and you’re better, I’d love to take care of you and make sure you’re going to live a normal life again._ _If you ever get out of that bloody coma._

_I hope you come back to me soon._

_I miss you so much._

_James._


End file.
